I didn't know what I was really doing most of the time. It may have seemed like I did but to be completely honest with myself...
I ran head first into a war I didn't know anything about, without a thought in my head except to save those who saved m...
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Thank you so much to Marvel_Immortality for creating these two lovely pieces of art for me!! I love honestly them so much!! Sorry some of it is a little cropped! But you did such an phenomenal job!!! Ahh, thank you so much!!
Enjoy Chapter 40, shanks! _____________________
I thought Ben and Alby's screams were painful to listen to.
For the past day, I felt each of Thomas' screams poison my already traumatized mind and shred apart what was left of my sanity. His screams were only examples of the pain he felt, but each deep and earth-shaking shriek that left his pale lips felt like invisible shards of glass piercing my visible skin. Every time his pain echoed across the Glade, I would have to stop and convince myself that the Grief Serum would work because sometimes it seemed like it wouldn't. The paranoia still hung from my heart, however.
Though, even when he's unconscious, Thomas still seems to motivate me. As strange as that sounds.
Thomas was unable to move, speak, or even be conscious; which left him vulnerable.
With Thomas' inability to defend himself against the nightly haunts of the grievers, I subconsciously trained the Gladers harder and pushed them to learn more. I made the one hour training practice into two, dedicating the one hour to working out. I had them all do two laps around the Glade in hopes of bettering their cardio and their ability to move without gaining fatigue as quickly. Afterwards, they were all given a quick water break before falling back into exercises involving their cores, legs, and arms. I knew the muscle building wouldn't work in the short time we had until night, but hopefully it would prepare them for future references.
If we survive.
I always involved myself in the exercises and laps. It wasn't just to comfort the Gladers, it was to physically benefit myself as well. The Gladers and I were all in this war. Just because I was the Keeper of these training sessions, doesn't mean I get to put myself on a pedestal and avoid the work. At least, that's how I felt.
After the hour of exercise was over, I brought the weapons into the picture. The Gladers already knew the basics on their designated weapons, so the majority of their hour was left to practicing with one another.
I also tried this small practice earlier in the afternoon where I tested the Gladers to use only the objects around them to defend themselves. This was more of an individual exercise where he - or Teresa - could keep his designated weapon but is also surround with bits of Homestead debris and other weapons a Glader may possibly drop. I tested each Glader, using my own machete and a few long planks of wood - in attempts to imitate a griever attack - and gave them advise for things they may need to improve on.
It's weird to train my friends, however. Chuck was easy to train with the exception of his directed complaining and subtle jokes which causes cracks in my stony facade. Chuck was always able to do that though. With Alby, it was strange ordering him to do something. He was obedient, did everything I asked, and he never complained, but it was strange because I still considered him the leader. It's strange telling the leader to do things. Minho was a nightmare. I only trained him a few times when he wasn't in the Maze but whenever I did, it was like trying to have a conversation with a baby. He always mocked me in the friendliest of ways and sometimes would refuse to run, claiming he does enough of it. He would smirk whenever I tried to convince him to do certain exercises, claiming he would embarrass every other Glader there. Lastly, he would laugh whenever I'd lecture him about mocking me. I get why Alby lets Minho walk all over him now, because Minho would anyway no matter what you'd say. Teresa was weird because she was the only girl I needed to train, after I've become so used to boys. It was was definitely weird telling other boys to quit staring at her ass, so I resulted to her and I training together instead. Overall, Teresa was great to train. Then finally, there was Newt. I had to keep myself from faltering from its stony exterior whenever I would glance over at his blonde glory. It was difficult to not stare at him whenever Newt would follow the exercises and run the laps. All I wanted to do was stare and have a big bowl of popcorn.
